Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

Chapter 140

140 Chapter 140

Seraphina’s POV 1

The Morrison house looked exactly the same as I remembered from before visits–white clapboard siding with forest green shutters, a wraparound porch lined with hanging flower baskets, and that old wooden swing.

“They’re gonna lose their minds,” Caleb said again as we pulled into the gravel driveway. “Mom’s been cooking since I called. Pretty sure

she made enough food to feed the entire pack.”

I managed a weak smile.

He turned off the engine and looked at me with those kind blue eyes. “You ready for this?”

*No.* I wasn’t ready for anything.

But I nodded anyway.

The front door burst open before we even made it up the porch steps.

“Seraphina!”

Margaret appeared in the doorway like a force of nature–gray hair in a messy bun, flour–dusted apron, arms already outstretched for a

hug. Behind her, Robert emerged with that gentle smile I remembered so well.

“Oh my goodness, look at you!” Margaret pulled me into one of those bone–crushing hugs that only mothers could give. “You’re skin and

bones! Haven’t they been feeding you in that fancy city?”

“Mom,” Caleb warned gently. “Let her breathe.”

“Don’t you ‘Mom‘ me, Caleb Morrison.” But she released me, her weathered hands moving to cup my face. “Let me look at you properly.”

I tried to smile, tried to pretend her maternal concern wasn’t making my chest ache with longing for something I’d never really had. “Hi,

Mrs. Morrison. It’s good to see you.”

“None of this Mrs. Morrison nonsense. You’re family, sweetheart. Always have been.” Her eyes–so much like Caleb’s–searched my face

with motherly worry. “You look tired, honey. When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”

“I ate on the bus-”

“Bus food doesn’t count.” She was already herding me toward the front door. “Robert, get her bags. Caleb, wash up. I’ve got pot roast in

the oven and fresh biscuits cooling on the counter”

I remembered. Worn hardwood floors covered with

every available surface. The smell of home cooking and lemon

the couch,” Margaret fussed, leading me toward the living room. “We turned Caleb’s old room into Robert’s workshop, and the guest room is full of Christmas decorations I’ve been

perfect,”

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140 Chapter 140

piled my plate high with pot roast and mashed potatoes and green beans from her garden, chattering about local gossip and asking gentle questions about my life that I deflected

yours?” she asked, passing me the butter for

froze halfway to my mouth.

“I bet they’re beautiful. Do they

has his father’s eyes. Lily has mine and

“They’re perfect,” I whispered.

must have heard something in my voice because she reached over to pat my hand. “Of

are.”

topics after that–the weather, local news, Caleb’s auto shop. I

mind

now? Was Damien home, or was he still at the office, drowning himself in

thinking about me?

asked

back to

I lied. “It’s been

course it has, sweetheart.” Margaret was already standing, clearing dishes with

settled while us old folks

“I can help-”

living room. “You’re a guest in this house. Guests

“sleep well, honey” and promises of pancakes

and me alone in the

with pillows and blankets, even found an old stuffed animal from somewhere and

“For all of this. I know

settled into his father’s old recliner, studying my face with those perceptive blue eyes. “You haven’t told me why you’re

“I told you, I ran into

were kids. You don’t run to other people when handle it yourself. So whatever

you

have trouble. You

lap

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140 Chapter 140

“Start wherever feels right.”

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